Never Be Mine
by ezridax19
Summary: Arthur and Guinevere are quite happily married, but lately Guinevere is finding herself secretly thinking of Arthur’s first knight. Just a bit of LanceGwen fluff.
1. No Talking

**Title:** Never Be Mine

**Pairing:** Lancelot and Guinevere

**Rating**: NC-17

**Summary**: Arthur and Guinevere are quite happily married, but lately Guinevere is finding herself secretly thinking of Arthur's first knight. Just a bit of Lance/Gwen smut.

**A/N:** There can never be enough Lancelot and Guinevere smut, as far as I'm concerned. This is a little piece that had popped into my head one day. The characters are a mix from the legends and the movie. Keeping this as a one-shot for now. If anyone likes it, I may continue it.

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**Chapter 1 - No Talking **

The moon was full in the sky, this dark evening in Camelot. The Queen was restless and longed for fresh air, for she found the castle quite stifling at times. Her husband, the King, was sleeping quite peacefully aside her in their grand bed. She turned her head to look upon him. Their marriage, she had once thought was so firmly built on their mutual love for one another. But if that were true, why did Guinevere wish to leave her husband's warm arms this evening? The feeling of uneasiness had been with her for a long time now. Her once genuine smiles had now turned artificial and she had to force herself most days to regard him with the same love that had come so naturally before.

The queen knew when her present state of mind had first begun. She knew when the disquietude had first captured her. She knew when she had first begun to think of another in her quiet moments alone. But most importantly, she knew so well that these newly emerging feelings had always been there, concealed under the surface. And it had taken the wedding, which should have been a most joyous celebration, to make her finally realize the hidden truth. Mind you, the wedding I speak of is not that of the King and Queen, but of the fair lady Elaine and Arthur's first knight Lancelot.

Lancelot and Elaine had been married not one month ago; and since that day, the agony in the Queen's heart had been continuously growing. She had no right to feel as she did, she had not right to hate this young woman, who had done nothing but treat her queen with the most sincere kindness. Elaine was of the sweetest disposition, as beautiful as the Queen, fair where Guinevere was dark, and it was obvious to all how she loved and adored her husband. For she doted on him constantly, and her light eyes shined so brightly whenever she was in his company. Lancelot as well seemed quite pleased with his new bride.

Guinevere had to admit, she never once thought Lancelot would marry. She was not certain why she thought so. Perhaps because she had never seen him show interest in any of the ladies of the court. Or perhaps it was Guinevere's own secret wish, that he never be tied to another woman. In all honesty, at times she was quite convinced that Arthur's first knight was secretly in love with her. Though he had never made any gesture to support her theory, she had always thought she could see something hidden in his eyes whenever he spoke to her. Though Guinevere would never admit it, she quite enjoyed his attention, and perhaps this was why she was altogether shocked to learn that he had found himself a bride.

As quietly as possible, Guinevere slipped out from under the covers, and tossed her cloak over her shoulders to cover her sheer nightdress. She left the castle unnoticed by taking the secret exit, the exit which only Arthur, the knights and herself knew of. The cool air ticked her face, and she relished in the openness of the outdoors. Thanks to the illumination of the full moon, she was able to make her way clearly as she headed into the forest behind the castle.

The woods were so utterly silent, and Guinevere's footsteps made only the softest of sounds upon the scattered leaves. As she walked, her thoughts were inevitably drawn to that day's events. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred; they had all partaken in dinner at the great hall as usual. Guinevere had been seated at her normal post aside Arthur at the round table; and she felt her eyes being inextricably drawn to the newlyweds. The way Lancelot so unabashedly kissed his new bride in front of everyone irked her to no end. Arthur had never shown such affection to his queen in public. Not that Guinevere had any issues with such displays; but the sight of Lancelot and Elaine sharing such tender moments ignited something dark deep within her.

The queen stopped her meandering aside a most gorgeously grand oak, and rested her back against the tree. She closed her eyes, just savouring her solitude and the complete calm of the night-time forest. After a few moments, she opened her dark eyes and almost screamed for her gaze locked upon her silent watcher.

"Lancelot! What are you doing out here?" She asked, with her heart pounding in her throat.

"I could ask the same of you, my queen," He replied with the faintest of smiles.

He moved closer to her until the sweet smell of his black leather garments filled her nostrils.

"I just felt like taking a walk," she explained, staring into his dark eyes. The way he looked at her made her breath catch in her throat.

"You should not be away from the castle alone at this late an hour." He voiced with concern.

"Well, luckily I have you here now to protect me," she wickedly smiled back at him.

He was standing mere inches from her now, and she feared he would become aware of her intense heartbeat. She pressed her back firmly into the oak, enraptured with his piercing gaze.

"Would your wife not be most concerned to find you away from her bed?" Her voice was merely a whisper now.

He moved his hand to rest on the tree, just above her head, and he leaned his face so close to hers, she could smell his sweet breath.

"Would your husband not be equally concerned to find his queen away from his bed?"

She was having trouble breathing now, and her back was aching from pressing so tightly against the rough timber.

"Arthur sleeps soundly," she replied licking her lips, for they suddenly felt parched.

He was so close to her, she could feel the intense heat radiating off his body. His dark eyes were hypnotizing; she could not look away. Without a word, he reached down and grabbed a lock of her curls, gently rubbing her silken hair between his fingers. She ached to equally entwine her fingers in his dark curls, but her hands remained at her side.

His free hand suddenly moved to caress her cheek, and one knuckle softly brushed against her open lips. Her tongue quickly darted to lap at where his fingers had touched her mouth, and she almost moaned from the feel of his skin against hers.

She wanted him, and he knew it; for he wanted her as well. He had always wanted her, though he had never once given her any hint to his hidden lust. In this moment, he knew she burned as he did, for he recognized her feelings so clearly simmering in her half-lidded eyes. Their shameful lust for one another was all consuming, and it took every ounce of Lancelot's strength to resist, if she were to return his caress he would surely be lost. He silently begged for her to both comply and refrain; though in the end he knew that he would grant her whatever wish she so desired.

Guinevere sensed Lancelot's hesitation, and she knew he was waiting for a sign from her; would she give in to her aching desire for him, or would she resist? She has been battling internally for so long, holding back her passion each and every day, and now that he was so close to her, now that she could almost taste his lips, could almost feel his warm body pressed up against hers, how on this earth could she possibly resist that which she had been secretly hungering for so long.

If he could only read her thoughts, he would have kissed her by now, for her mind was screaming to feel his lips against hers. Instead he kept one hand gripped in her hair and the other continued softly stroking her face. _Touch him! _Both her heart and her mind commanded her, and Guinevere obliged. Her hands finally moved to his waist and she pulled his warm body tight against hers. She could feel his arousal hard against her thigh, and her stomach tightened in response.

They were both panting into each other mouths with lust, though their lips had not yet met. Both his hands were now locked behind her head, and all he needed to do was push just in the slightest and their lips would be locked; but he hesitated.

She could end it at all now, before she condemned them both. He pushed himself harder up against her, and she forfeited her last bit of self-control, there was no turning back now. She finally entwined her fingers in his dark curls and pulled his lips down to meet hers. All thought left her mind, everything else fell away and all she could feel was his lips pressed against hers, his tongue slowly caressing hers, and his hard body arched into her.

He broke the sweet kiss to gaze into her eyes. There were so many things written in his stare, so many emotions shining in his eyes. "Guinevere, I …" his voice barely above a whisper.

She instantly silenced him with her hungry lips. _No talking. _Her hands moved to his trousers, and she tore at the buttons, freeing his hard cock. He was nibbling on the soft skin of her neck, when she reached her hand to grasp him, causing him to sharply intake his breath and let out a hot sigh into her shoulder.

"Guinevere, wait please." He was practically begging.

_Wait! I have been waiting forever for this. _Guinevere would wait no longer. With one hand stroking his hardness, she lifted her nightdress and brushed the tip of him against her, letting him feel how wet she was for him.

She teasingly licked his earlobe before moaning her command, "Now!"

_Your wish is my command. _He slowly pushed himself inside her, until he filled her completely, relishing in her body wrapped so tightly around him. His swollen lips sought hers and their tongues danced together, fueling their heated desire. He moved so achingly slowly, dragging his hardness in and out of her slippery flesh.

It was nothing at all as she had imagined; surely it was glorious, the feel of him inside her. But his movements were so sweet, so loving. He was cool water dousing her burning flames. Yet she wanted him to be hot fire, equal to her own, and melding with her into an unrestrained inferno. Her husband was always so sweet and gentle in their lovemaking; if she had wanted that, she would stayed in bed with him this evening. She craved a dangerous and forbidden passion. Passion that she knows dwells within the dark knight. Passion that burns in his eyes when he gazes upon her. But she does not feel his passion; for some reason he is holding back, reigning in his deepest desires.

She attempted to encourage him by bending her leg up into his side, to allow him even deeper entrance inside her. She moaned loudly into his ear, hoping that would spur him to move himself faster and harder inside her. That's what she wanted, but Lancelot continued his gentle motions. She bucked her hips harder against him, but he steadied her. He was savouring every inch of her, and did not want to rush the sensation. She was quickly loosing patience at her failed attempts to increase his pace.

"Do you fuck your wife like this?" Her words icily whispered into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

He stopped the soft kisses he had been placing on her neck and pulled back from her, a look of shock painted on his face. He thought she had been enjoying their love-making as much as he.

"I am most sorry to have displeased you so, my queen," the hurt and sadness filling his eyes.

He attempted to untangle himself from their embrace, but she stopped him. _No, you are not going anywhere._ Staring at him with fire in her eyes, she took his hands and put them on the curve of her buttocks and forced him to lift her up as she tightly encircled her legs around him.

"Why are you so afraid to hurt me?" she whispered into his mouth, her gaze never leaving his.

She wanted him to hurt her. She knew why he was being so careful, so gentle; but she needed more.

She lightly dragged her tongue across his neck and whispered, "How long have you lusted after me? How many times have you fantasized of me?"

He tightened his grip on her ass, squeezing her soft flesh, and a soft grunt escaped from his lips, which was the only reply he could give her.

She grabbed his ass with equal fervor and pushed hard, thrusting him deep inside her. He let out a strangled groan into her neck as she cried out loudly.

"Now show me." She commanded while biting down hard on his shoulder, crushing the thin barrier he had placed up to hold back his fierce passion.

"Yes, my queen." He smiled wickedly, before crushing his lips against hers, and forcing his tongue into her open waiting mouth. Gone were the soft tender kisses and caresses of earlier. Finally his fire equaled hers, and he thrust himself deep to her hilt causing her to cry out from both the pain and the pleasure of it.

_Yes! _It was exquisite. This is what she had been wanting, needing. What only he could give her.

Her mouth hungrily found his again, and he moved one hand to her back, to push her heaving chest tight to his. He thrust harder and faster into her, each kiss interrupted by their panting and moaning. She never wanted this to end, but each soft groan that escaped from his red lips only pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She tried to hold it in, waiting for him.

"Guinevere" The way he cried out her name made her squeeze her legs even tighter around him, desperately clinging to him as her body was ravaged by shockwaves arching though her. The pulses tightened around him, and he groaned into her mouth as he filled her so completely, exploding inside of her.

She buried her face in his neck for a minute, until she was able to slow her ragged breathing. She pulled back to stare into his deep brown eyes, and with an enormous smile, kissed him softly on the lips.

He caressed her cheek, brushing his lips on her forehead, before gently releasing his grasp on her. Holding her hand firmly in his they walked together away from the tree. He stared down at his most beautiful queen, and opened his mouth to speak. She already knew what he would say, she could read every unspoken word in his eyes, and quickly silenced him by pressing her finger to his lips.

"Shh. No talking." She stole one last sweet kiss from him, and with a final smile, turned and walked away.

It was no use, she thought to herself. No good could come from uttering forbidden words that could never change the simple facts of their reality. She was the Queen, and she could never be anything more to him. It did not matter if she felt the same as he; it did not matter that her hunger, which he had sated for now, would soon return; it did not matter that she would now ache even more for his touch. None of it mattered; for she could not change her lot in life, just as she could not change her feelings for her husband's dearest and most beloved first knight.

Lancelot watched as the queen who had bewitched him so completely walked back though the trees to return to the castle. He kept his dark eyes fixed upon her back until he could no longer see her shadowy figure. Shaking his head, he said aloud the words that filled his heart with anguish, the truth of their situation and everything he wished he could change, but knew he never could.

"She will never be mine."


	2. The Hunger Within

**A/N: One lovely reviewer asked that I continue this, which is all the encouragement I needed, so here is another chapter. A little plot, a lot of smut.**

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**Chapter 2 – The Hunger Within**

One week. It had been one week since her late night tryst in the forest with the dark knight. One week since she had felt his warm lips against hers, his hard body pressed so tightly to hers, his aching passion throbbing inside her. One desperately long week, and just as she had feared, the hunger had returned, and was even more intense now than before. She was actually most surprised that she had been able to contain it for so long; she surely thought her burning desire would have overpowered her much sooner than now.

Each and every day since their late-night encounter, she would see him. Sometimes alone, sometimes with Arthur, sometimes with his wife. Gods how she utterly despised that woman, and for no reason at all, except for the simple fact that she was married to _him_. If Elaine went even but a few hours without being in his presence, she would always run and embrace him as if it had been centuries since she last saw his face. "_Lancelot, I missed you terribly," _Elaine would call out, in the most annoying sweet voice that grated against Guinevere's ears like fingernails scraping on a slate stone.

It was sham, their marriage. Lancelot did not love her. Elaine, however, was completely enamored with him, and it was Arthur who had convinced his first knight to marry the young lady. Arthur would feel so much more at ease, knowing that all his knights were married and would have heirs who would inherit their land and their authority. How could the first knight refuse his King? So Lancelot did the only thing he could - he pretended to be utterly happy with his new bride, and Arthur was content. Of course, only Lancelot and the queen knew of his true feelings, but such was Lancelot's lot in life. Nobody ever said life was fair, and oh how well the queen knew the truth of those words.

Each encounter she had with the dark knight in the castle only added fuel to her already raging fire. Even just simply passing by him in one of the corridors, would cause her heart to race. And forget about the hours spent in the great hall at dinner - she could barely look at him, for each each time their gazes locked, she found herself suddenly having trouble breathing, as she felt the hunger building deep within her soul. One long week passed, until finally the queen realized that she could control her hidden passions no longer. She felt as if her body was on fire, and would soon burst into a thousand flaming sparks.

Last night, she was in bed with her husband, and she had done something most terrible. Something she had never done before, something she did not ever think herself capable of doing. She had closed her eyes and imagined it was someone else making love to her. It was such a despicable thing to do, but she had done it nonetheless. Not that her tryst was not as equally horrid an action, but for some reason this seemed so much worse. And that was the moment in which she knew her agonizing hunger had overwhelmed her, and there was only one way in which she could be satiated.

That evening the queen accompanied her husband into the hall for dinner. They were the last to arrive; all the other knights were already seated at the table, laughing and joking amongst themselves. She allowed herself a secret glance at Lancelot as she and her husband moved to seat themselves. His dark eyes captured hers for just an instant, but it was more than enough to send her heart into a frenzy.

Once the king and queen were seated, the servants immediately brought out the enormous spread of food and wine.

The queen attempted to enjoy her dinner, while every so often stealing hidden glances at Lancelot and his wife. Elaine seemed unable to stop touching her husband – lovingly caressing his arm, tightly grabbing his hand in hers, constantly smiling at him with such love shining in her bright blue eyes. Guinevere had to refrain herself a few times, for she wanted nothing more than to walk over and slap that silly little grin off Elaine's face. They were wretched thoughts for the queen to be having, she knew, but she could not stop her mind from thinking them. Guinevere reached for her glass of wine, and almost choked on the first sip, when Elaine started insisting that she cut up her husband's meat for him. That was too much for even Lancelot, and he dissuaded her as gently as possible. He knew he would never hear the end of it from the knights if he allowed her wish.

Once the main course was finished, the queen took a bright red apple from the fruit bowl and proceeded to slice it into large wedges. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to make sure he was watching her, before she proceeded to slowly wrap her lips around the delectable fruit, taking altogether more time than was necessary to bite into the sweet flesh of the apple. She could see his lips parting just in the slightest and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and she knew she had accomplished her task.

"Delicious fruit," she turned to address her husband, "though I must admit, apple trees are not my favorite tree of the forest."

"No my queen? Myself, I quite like apple trees. Which do you prefer?" Arthur asked.

"I much prefer an immensely tall, strong oak," she replied with a coy smile on her lips, before turning to Lancelot.

"Lancelot, and which do you prefer?"

The dark knight swallowed hard, before responding, "My queen, I believe you and I share a liking, for I too find the oak tree to be the most pleasing."

She had to bite her bottom lip hard to stop the immense grin that was forming, and simply nodded her head at the first knight's reply.

"And I as well!" Elaine excitedly added her thoughts without having been asked. But of course she would agree with whatever her husband fancied.

This time Guinevere could not stop herself from rolling her eyes at the woman's utterly pathetic worship of her husband. Luckily no one had seen the queen's reaction, except for Lancelot, who bit back a laugh and turned to smile warmly at his wife, playing his proper role of the doting spouse. Elaine's attitude was bordering on obscene, constantly giggling like a young girl at every little word Lancelot uttered, but Guinevere paid no further notice to the young lady, for her thoughts were elsewhere. Throughout the rest of dinner, the queen had the faintest of smiles painted upon her lips, though only she and one other knew the reason.

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Guinevere stood waiting next to the oak tree with her arms wrapped around her for warmth. She had half-expected him to already be here when she arrived; surely he had understood her hidden invitation during their conversation at dinner. She looked up into the clear night sky, searching for the stars that formed the shape of the great hunter. She had always loved that particular formation, ever since she was a little girl. The bright hunter in the dark sky - it reminded her so much of her dark knight. Suddenly she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist and she gasped with fear. But only for an instant, for she just as soon caught his familiar scent of leather and cinnamony musk and let out a soft sigh. 

"Did I startle you my queen?" his hot breath whispered into her ear, causing her stomach to dance.

She pushed her back tightly against his chest, savouring the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her slight frame. He placed his warm lips to her neck, gently bathing her skin with his tongue.

"I was beginning to fear you would not come," she whispered into the cool night air.

"And I was beginning to fear you would not ask me to," he replied softly, his head buried in her neck.

She turned around in his arms to face him, and took a moment just to enjoy gazing into his deep brown eyes. Their lips met softly at first, before deepening into a more heated kiss. Their tongues lapped at each other in desperation, sending her blood rushing between her legs with an aching throb. He entwined his hands in her dark curls, pushing her lips harder against his ravenous mouth. He had learned his lesson quite well from their last encounter, and knew that he had no need to fear unleashing his deep passion for her. She finally broke the kiss, softly panting for air, and gripped his hand tightly pulling him to their tree. She lay her dark red cloak on the ground, and made him sit with his back against the strong oak. She sat down on top of him, straddling his legs with hers, and she could feel his hard arousal pressed against her most sensitive area.

He pulled her even tighter against him, crushing his lips against hers, as he slowly traced his fingers down the curve of her neck, and lightly brushed them against one hard nipple poking out from beneath her nightdress. She moaned softly into his mouth before moving her lips to suck at his neck, teasingly nibbling on his sensitive skin. He had both hands on her chest now, cupping her small perky breasts and pinching her taut nipples tightly between his thumb and forefinger, causing her hips to rock roughly against him.

"You enjoyed teasing me at dinner, didn't you?" He murmured into her neck.

She stopped her exploration of his throat and pulled back to look into his eyes. "Why, whatever do you mean?" she replied coyly, feigning complete innocence. Innocence that they both knew so well she did not possess.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a grin, "That scene of yours with the apple."

"I was just practicing," she replied, licking at his lips.

She reached her hand down to unbutton his black leather trousers, and with a devilish smile moved her head down into his lap. Her soft lips tightly wrapped around his hard flesh, swallowing him deep into her throat. Letting out a hiss, he buried his fingers in her long dark hair, moaning at the feel of her warm mouth sucking his sensitive flesh. She continued her loving ministrations, licking his swollen cock up and down until he let out a deep groan signaling his climax was soon approaching.

She moved her head back up to suck on his lips and tongue with the same ferocity she had shown in his lap.

"You, my queen, are a devil disguised as an angel." He panted between their fierce kisses.

"Why whatever do you mean, my knight? She replied with the same coy smile as before, and swung her hips up to capture his hardness between her legs, and then down again, pushing him deep inside her.

Whatever witty reply had been on his lips, was lost and instead a loud moan erupted from his throat.

_Finally!_ What she had been desperately hungering for all week long, was finally hers.

It was even more exquisite than last time. She took immense pleasure in being in command, in bending him to her will. Her hips undulated, crashing into his and pulling them both along the path to ecstasy. Faster, then slower, then faster again; they both moved together as one. One body, one soul, one heart; both seeking pleasure and other forbidden things they were not allowed. But here and now they were together and he filled her completely. Their bodies joined so tightly together, their lips never parting – breathing each other's hot breath, drinking from each other's mouths as if it were the sweetest nectar from heaven.

She felt that sweet sensation building deep inside of her now, and locked her eyes with his, wanting nothing more than to watch him, to show him the pleasure he gave her, to see the pleasure she gave him in return. Breathing as one, moving as one, hearts beating frantically as one. Her moaning grew louder and his panting increased in pitch to perfectly match her rhythm, until they both cried out with the waves of pure pleasure that arched trough their bodies.

He would have stayed there all night, sleeping against the rough bark with her wrapped tightly in his arms. But they both knew they could never be allowed such a pleasure. Standing, she offered her hand to help him to his feet. And just as before, she gave him one last kiss, one last smile, and one last gaze before heading back to the castle.

He knew that this was all they could ever hope to have together. A few stolen hours of pleasure, a few nights here and there, meeting in secret in the deep of the forest, and as many kisses, caresses, and embraces they could share in that short of a time. Well, he supposed, it was better than nothing at all.

The queen walked slowly back to the castle - back to her chambers, back to her husband. She could still feel a tingle on her lips for her lover's kisses, still smell his sweet musky scent, still hear his soft whispers tickling in her ear. She did not trouble herself with wondering how long it would be this time, until the hunger overtook her again. For now she simply basked in the afterglow of her most delicious and forbidden rendezvous with her lover.

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**A/N: Oh the queen and her wicked ways! evil grin Sorry if my treatment of Elaine seemed overly harsh ... Well ok I'm not _that_ sorry about it. **

**Not exactly sure where this is going. You all keep reviewing and I'll keep writing ;)**


	3. Don't Fall

**A/N: Thank you everyone for the lovely reviews on the last chapter. I very much appreciate the feedback. This chapter turned out a bit longer than I was expecting, but I suppose that not a bad thing :)**

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_I hear your whispers  
Break the silence  
And it calms me down  
Your taste on my lips  
Your salty kisses_

_They say I'm seeking up the danger  
That one day you won't let me go  
(I'll drown, you'll take me down)_

_I need you Aquarius  
Enchanted I will have to stay.  
I feel you Aquarius  
'Cause you don't see, set me free  
You call to me Aquarius  
(You call to me, you set me free)_

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**Chapter 3 – Don't Fall**

Guinevere was utterly and completely bored. She had been moping about the castle all day long, looking for something, anything to do. The life of a queen was far too often filled with endless solitude in waiting - waiting for what exactly she was not entirely sure. Arthur had been gone on business for the past two days, leaving her to wander about the stone walls and invent ways in which to fill the day. She had already harassed the kitchen staff enough; she was certain they were downstairs, cursing her name at this very moment. Not that she cared. She was the queen; it was her right to question any and every little thing that occurred within the walls of the castle.

The midday sun was shining on Camelot and Guinevere was still searching for a way to bide her time. In all truth, she was really searching for any sort of excuse to not think of _him_. Only two nights had passed since their last encounter in the forest, but her thoughts had been constantly plagued with the dark knight. She wondered how long their affair would last? When she would meet him again? Was his mind just as plagued with thoughts of her? Would their secret be discovered? Did he imagine her, when he was in bed with his wife, as she did with Arthur?

She was infected - he was the disease and she knew all too well there was no cure. Not that she wanted to be cured, but how on earth could she properly fulfil her duties as queen if she was in constant longing for Lancelot's forbidden touch? Everything was so much simpler when they were alone; but she could not live her life alone with him. She had but one life to live – this one. Guinevere had gone over it again and again in her mind, and still was unable to reach any sort of solution. Best to not think on it for now, she conceded. Not that that would accomplish anything, but she was too fully aware that there was nothing at all she could do to remedy the situation.

The thought of bothering the kitchen staff once again tired her, so instead Guinevere decided to enjoy the sanctity and quietude of the gardens. Camelot housed a most splendid greenery and though the queen much preferred the green of the open forest, the castle's gardens would suffice for now. As she made her way down the stairs, Guinevere could not help but reflect on the events of last night's dinner in the hall.

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Without Arthur there, she was the lone regal figure in the great hall, and though the knights respected her greatly, they all considered her a comrade and a dear friend after all these long years together. In turn, she quite enjoyed their company and felt most at ease joining in their discourses and constant ribbing of one another. 

The prime focus of last night's jest just so happened to be her favourite knight of all – Lancelot. At first, she only quietly smirked at the severe treatment the dark knight had to endure. But she soon found her voice joining in with her own rabid comments, all in jest of course. How she utterly delighted in teasing him.

"Lancelot, do you recall that time you fell down the hill, chasing down that Saxon bastard?" Bors was laughing at the recollection.

"I did not fall! I told you I was pushed." Lancelot bravely attempted to save his honour.

"Who the hell pushed you?" Gawain interjected. "I saw the whole thing myself, there was not a soul behind you."

"Ah," Guinevere laughed, "So this is the incident in which you earned the name Sir Tripsalot?"

She smirked at him, utterly adoring the way in which the blood rushed to his cheeks, painting them crimson.

"I did no such thing! I was pushed, I swear to you!" Lancelot was getting angry now, which only increased her desire to torment him even further.

"Perhaps you did trip? Will you concede that?" Guinevere playfully continued the game.

"How many times must I tell you. I did not trip, I was pushed!" Lancelot raged against her.

Oh how she loved torturing him! It was all just a game and he knew it, but he responded in exactly the fashion she so desperately desired. The way in which his full red lips curled into that angry sneer, his eyes closed into those seductively piercing slits, his soft dark curls bounced upon his shaking head. It was his reaction, more that anything else, that fuelled her to continually poke fun at him for the silliest of things.

"Are you quite sure Lancelot? It does not seem a very knightly thing to do to trip and fall. But perhaps it was a fallen branch, or a fallen apple that caused you to stumble?"

The sound of the word apple leaving her lips caused Lancelot to quickly bite back his tongue from responding. Instead his face became an even darker shade of red, and he slowly shook his head at her, finally realizing how this devilish queen of his had been gently mocking him this whole time.

But there was one person seated at the table who had missed the joke.

"Oh that's not true! If Lancelot said he was pushed, then surely he was!" Elaine cried out in defence of her husband.

Gods, would the woman ever shut her mouth? If Guinevere had but a thread and needle with her, she would have sown Elaine's lips closed herself, and thoroughly relished in the task.

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Guinevere exited the interior of the castle to the smell of sweet pine and flowers. She walked to her favourite place of the garden - the water fountain bearing the statue of the blessed goddess. The second she spied the blonde hair of the girl sitting on the bench in front of the fountain, the queen almost turned back to leave, for it was the last person on this earth she wished to speak with. 

"Good day my queen," Elaine called sweetly.

_Dammit!_ It was too late now to turn back, and Guinevere had no choice but to respond.

"Good day, Elaine," Guinevere replied as kindly as her voice would allow.

"Would you like to go for a walk?"

"No, thank you I ..."

"Oh please! Let us go for a walk." Elaine was practically begging.

Guinevere's patience was lost and she did not have the desire to argue with the woman, so instead she nodded in acquiesce. It _would_ be pleasant to get some fresh air outside of the castle walls, she convinced herself. And hopefully, Elaine would not have the need speak at great length, as she was normally prone to do.

* * *

The two ladies walked around the grounds of the castle, Elaine constantly chipperring away in her sweet voice. Guinevere was only half-listening to the girl, but managed to nod and agree at the appropriate places, such that Elaine was never the wiser. 

"Let us go to the wall, shall we?" Elaine asked.

Guinevere nodded on cue. She really didn't care where they went. She was enjoying the fresh air if nothing else; though her company lacked a thing or two to be desired. As they made their way to the wall, Guinevere soon realized why Elaine has wished to come here – Lancelot was on patrol-duty.

If there was one thing worse than Elaine's company, it was Elaine's company in the presence of Lancelot. The queen could do nothing but watch as Elaine rushed into her husband's arms, kissing him warmly. Guinevere suddenly felt ill as her stomach somersaulted, and she had to bite back the acidic bile that rose into her throat. The sight of them together was revolting; yet as much as she wished to avert her eyes, her gaze was transfixed upon the pair. As if sensing Guinevere's discomfort, Lancelot untangled himself from Elaine's embrace and bowed his head.

"Good day my queen. To what do I owe the pleasure of such a fine pair of ladies?" he asked with a smile, his dark eyes shining brightly in the midday sun.

_Fine pair indeed_. Men would kill for a second in either of the ladies' company, and Lancelot had the complete and utter adoration of not just one, but both of them. Did he have any idea just how lucky he truly was? Perhaps he did realize his fortune, or perhaps he needed to be reminded of it?

"Your wife requested my company. Though it is pure happen chance that our paths crossed." She answered him with as neutral a tone as she could muster.

"Indeed? And you had no idea that I was on duty today at the wall?" He asked, still with that grin painted on his face.

"No. If I had known, perhaps I would have coerced Elaine to walk on the opposite side of the castle grounds."

Lancelot's smile quickly changed to a frown at her reply. Elaine looked confused, yet she quite often had such an expression upon her face.

Why was the queen acting so wickedly? Why did she have to pretend she wasn't utterly thrilled at the sight of him? Part of her enjoyed teasing him, in acting completely indifferent in his presence. But in all truth, her current attitude was not merely an amusing ploy meant to tease him, nor a simple ruse to avoid speculation. She was jealous. Jealous of the two of them together. Jealous that his wife could kiss him out in the open, and she could not. And that was the true reason for her cruel words; and Lancelot was not fool enough not to realize this.

"My dear, I will see you later. I must return to my duty" Lancelot said to his wife. Averting Guinevere's gaze, he placed a kiss on Elaine's forehead.

Elaine's lips turned down into a pathetic frown, "But Lancelot, we have just arrived! Surely you can spare a few more moments."

"Come Elaine. Stop distracting your husband from his duty." Guinevere harshly reprimanded her.

Elaine looked like a small child that had been slapped across the face at some awful misdeed. Guinevere could clearly tell that the woman wished to say something further; but Elaine was not foolish enough to refute her queen's direct command.

Guinevere smiled inwardly. Sometimes it did pay to be the queen; to have every bidding she uttered obeyed without question. She had overwhelming power and it was thrilling; though she was not the type to abuse it. Well, not too often anyhow.

With one final glance at Lancelot she turned her back to leave, with Elaine trotting behind like a lost puppy following their master.

* * *

The two women made their way back to the castle in silence. If nothing else, at least Guinevere's tone had shut the other woman up; and for this the queen was grateful. Though instead of her annoying rambling, Elaine had found something even more irritating to do. Every few feet they walked, she would turn and gaze back across the grass at Lancelot, who was undoubtedly watching the pair's return to the castle. 

After about the fifth time Elaine turned her head to look back at the wall, Guinevere had had enough. _What in damnation is she looking at! Can she not go one single minute without looking at her damned husband?_

Guinevere made a tragic mistake then, and let her anger and jealousy dictate her actions. She herself turned around, to see Lancelot smiling at the two of them. That man, damn him. That smile of his caused her heart to flutter in her chest. She could not help herself but smile back at him, knowing that the grin painted on his face was for her and her alone. She was too preoccupied with Lancelot's distant charms to hear Elaine cautioning her to watch her step.

And the next thing Guinevere felt was her arms scraping across the dirt and her face sniffing at the grass. She had tripped and fallen, and not elegantly so at all. The queen lay on the ground in a tangled heap of her own long limbs. Her blood was boiling; she was so angry at herself. Guinevere felt a fool and knew that she looked the part as well.

"My queen! Are you alright?" Elaine voiced with concern.

"I am fine!" Guinevere growled back as she proceeded to disentangle herself and rise as gracefully as possible from the grass.

She did not need to turn her head to know that Lancelot had seen her falling. She could feel his dark eyes burning into her back. She would not turn to face him and instead felt the warm blood rushing to her face. With a final hissing snarl, the queen stormed back to the castle, not even bothering to notice if Elaine was following her stride or not.

* * *

That evening the queen did not grace the great hall with her presence at dinner. Though her fall earlier today had not damaged her physically, her pride still needed time to recover. She was in no mood for the teasing she was sure to endure on Lancelot's behalf. Instead Guinevere had her meal brought to her chambers and after consuming her dinner alone, she lay on the bed staring up at the stone ceiling. 

In her solitude, the queen's mind conjured up a myriad of thoughts – all of which were centered around that forbidden first knight of hers. When would she see him again? How would she send him a secret invitation this time to meet her? Only two days had past since she had last felt his embrace, and she was already longing for his touch. She replayed their last encounter over and over again in her mind – vividly recalling each and every moment, kiss and touch they had shared. The queen knew her lust was wrong, she knew her thoughts were so shameful, fantasizing of the dark knight – here in her and Arthur's chambers. _Dammit! _She should be thinking about her husband in her quiet moments alone, not his first knight!

Guinevere heard a knock on the door and cursed to herself, _who is it! _She was in no mood for company. Maybe if she would ignore her visitor they would simply go away? After a few moments the knocking began again and with a sigh Guinevere rose from the bed, noticing that the candle she had lit earlier was already half burned already, signalling that many hours had past since dinner.

She opened the door to find the last person on this earth she was expecting, but the one person she had been desperately wishing it was. Wearing his black leather pants and a white cotton shirt, open at the chest exposing his tan skin, the dark knight's frame crowded the threshold of her chambers. Just the mere sight of him caused Guinevere's knees to threaten to buckle underneath her. He had a deeply mischievous grin painted on his lips, and his hand was resting on the wooden frame of the door while his dark eyes implored her to bid him entrance. Glancing quickly down both lengths of the corridor to ensure there was not a soul present, Guinevere moved aside, silently inviting him into her chambers.

"I came to see if you were alright," he smiled brightly at her, though the coy gleam had still not left his eyes. "I was most concerned when you did not come to the hall this evening for dinner."

She glanced at him questioningly before moving closer to the bed, putting a safe distance between them. She could not trust herself around him, and her and Arthur's chambers was the last place she would ever wish to succumb to his overpowering charms.

"I am quite well. Thank you for you concern, but it is unfounded." She convincingly replied.

"Are you sure my queen? After that terrible fall of yours earlier I feared you may have injured yourself." That impish grin of his only grew larger as his words caused her lips to turn downwards into a tight frown.

"I am fine Lancelot. I simply lost my footing and stumbled. Nothing more." She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

He was enjoying this immensely she could tell. After the ribbing he had endured the night before, she could not blame him of course.

He moved but a few steps closer to her before speaking again. "Are you quite sure my queen? If there is anything I can do at all to alleviate any discomfort you may be feeling, please do not hesitate to tell me."

Rolling her eyes, she responded, "I was not aware that you were well-skilled in the healing arts Lancelot."

He laughed loudly at her haughty retort. Her tongue was as sharp as his and he thoroughly enjoyed their verbal sparring matches. It was not everyday Lancelot found another person who could match his quick wit. But the queen was his equal in this regard, which was one of the many qualities about her he found so appealing.

He walked even closer to her now, until she could almost feel the warmth of his body.

"I possess many skills that you do not yet know of, my queen," he replied, his dark eyes locked with hers.

He was completely seducing her, and he had not even touched her yet. It was his eyes and his voice that tightly grabbed her hidden desire for him, and swiftly pulled her passions to the surface.

She did a most foolish thing then, and allowed herself to be swept away by his powerful tides.

"Well in all truth, my back does ache quite a bit."

It was a game - a gloriously sensual game and she had just placed her piece onto the board, countering his last move.

"Does it? Well, let us see if I can not alleviate that awful ache of yours."

Lancelot closed the gap between them and moved his hands around her to rest on the small of her back. Her pulse had quickened to a now feverish pace and she simply waited to see what his next move would be.

He moved his head closer to hers and she felt her lips parting in anticipation; but instead of the feel of his mouth against hers, his breath tickled against her ear as he whispered, "Lie on the bed, my queen, and I shall attempt to quell whatever pain ails you."

_Not here. _Oh gods, this should not be happening _here. _But it was. And she was letting it happen. Guinevere was past the point of no return. Indeed the second she had allowed him to enter the chambers she had sealed her fate. Guinevere was lost, and if this what what being lost felt like, then she never ever wished to be found again. She soon found herself lying on her bridal bed just as he had instructed.

"Turn around. I cannot reach your back from that position," he teasingly smiled, still standing next to the bed.

She, once again, obliged to his commands, and turned to lay on her stomach facing the door, closing her eyes in delightful anticipation of whatever Lancelot's mind had in store for her.

Guinevere felt the bed sink slightly as Lancelot's body moved closer to hers. Suddenly she could feel his muscular legs pressed tightly against her hips, and his body firmly rested on her backside, as he straddled her from behind. In the next instant, her body was completely aflame as his fingertips kneaded into her back, massaging her tight muscles into utter submission. She could not stop herself from moaning aloud at the feel of his hands on her body, though she was silently begging for him to remove the thin material of her dress so that she could feel the full force of his powerful fingers caressing her skin.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lancelot began tugging at her dress, moving it farther down her back to expose more of her soft skin to his touch. Lancelot's warm finger soothingly stroked her naked flesh, as she felt him lean forward to whisper into her ear.

"Feeling better, my queen?"

"Mmmm" was the only reply her lips were able to utter. Guinevere was thoroughly relishing the sensations his fingertips provoked in her. The warmth from his hands travelled down to her belly before settling between her legs in an aching throb of desire. The feel of his breath across her neck caused her hips to buck in response, crashing against his hard arousal.

That was all the answer Lancelot needed and a seductive grin passed across his face. He continued massaging her back, moving from her tense shoulders, slowly down to where the material of her dress covered her buttocks. His fingers teasingly played across her skin, eliciting soft moans to escape from her lips.

Lancelot pushed his body tighter against her and she could feel his hard manhood pressed tightly against her. Guinevere slowly moved one hand to reach around her back, and still with her head pressed tightly against the sheets of the bed, began slowly unlacing his black leather trousers. Her desire for him was overwhelming and she forgot where she was. The only thing her mind could process was the feel of his hard body against hers and his hands on her flesh. She was not concerned that they where here - in her and her husband's chambers, on her and Arthur's bed. Fully submerged in the dark knights tides, she wished to drown in him, sinker further and further into the abyss of their passion.

Her lover suddenly stopped his loving caresses, and a moment later she felt his body completely cover hers as his head settled against her neck. Guinevere turned her head so that their lips could finally meet, and just as his cool tongue entered his lips, she felt his hard manhood slowly poking at her wet opening. Moaning aloud into his mouth, she sucked at his tongue as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. Her hips angled to allow him complete entrance and she gripped the bedsheets tightly in anticipation.

Lancelot's mouth was pressed up beside her ear, so that she could hear each moan, each pant that escaped from him lips and he pushed himself deeper inside of her. Guinevere's hips joined his rhythm perfectly, and clenching the bed tightly, she bit into the sheets, suppressing the loud groan that was threatening to overtake her. In response, Lancelot's teeth sunk hard into her shoulder, as he thrust himself harder inside her tight, wet flesh.

Perhaps it was the achingly stimulating position the two lovers were entwined in; or perhaps it was the fact that they were making love in such a forbidden place, not just in the castle, but in her and Arthur's sacred bedroom; whatever it was, it only fuelled their sinful passions and made the encounter even more delicious than any of the others. Lancelot's hands were firmly gripped around hers, and she squeezed them with delight, bucking her hips even harder against his. His hot breath on her neck, his warm chest on her back, his muscular legs wrapped so tightly around hers. Gods, it was better than anything she had even felt before in her life. Meeting his panting lips again, she breathed in his sweet breath as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Her moaning became louder now, and he captured each sound in his open waiting mouth, savouring the desire he so elicited in her. With one final guttural moan, her whole body shook, as if struck by lightening, and she screamed into his throat.

Panting loudly into her ear, Lancelot slowly disentangled himself from her, laying aside her on the bed. He gently stroked her hair while softly kissing her full red lips. Guinevere smiled radiantly at her lover, staring into his deep brown eyes, eyes she craved for, eyes she saw whenever she closed hers. He was angelicly beautiful, and the queen adored him. Every single thing about him.

There were words on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill, yet she stopped them, just as she had stopped him of uttering them, their first time together. Instead she spoke the only words she could allow herself to say.

"Thank you, my knight. You have indeed alleviated each and every ache in my body."

Lancelot smiled at her, that glorious smile of his. That smile that she would long to see throughout her days, that smile that caused her heart to sing with joy, that smile that calmed her very soul.

"Did I not tell you that I am well skilled in many areas." Lancelot replied with a coy grin.

Kissing her softly on the lips once more, Lancelot spoke the words she so did not wish to hear, though she knew they must be spoken nonetheless, "Good night, my most beautiful queen. Sleep well."

Guinevere rolled onto her side, watching her lover dress, and with a final smile he exited her chambers. With the smallest of sighs, Guinevere disrobed and donned her nightdress, before burrowing herself under the covers. It did not matter if she wished him to stay that night, it did not matter that she did not ask him to, for she already knew the answer to that question.

"Goodnight, my Lancelot." she spoke aloud, though he was already gone. _I shall dream of you tonight, and hope that you shall of me as well._

* * *

_I relinquish_  
_To your powers  
From your grasp  
I just can't hide _

_I missed the danger  
I had to conquer  
You made me feel alive_

_They say I have to be aware  
That one day you won't let me go  
Take me down_

_I long for you Aquarius  
I need to be with you again  
I fear you, Aquarius  
My destiny 'till the end _

_-Aquarius, Within Temptation_

* * *

**A/N: I am having far too much fun writing this story. Once again, I am sorry, but not _that_ sorry about my treatment of Elaine. It's all the queen's doing, not mine!**


End file.
